You receive notice of your next evaluation at Culebra Research Institute one hour before the top boss arrives. You are today-years-old when you discover Dr. M. Roswell is a cat.
She pounces atop the papers on your desk. “Dr. Jonas, your most important project is behind schedule.”
The cat can talk! You leap to
I opened my locker door, eyes still smarting from the storm of tears. I couldn’t take another day of this. Even if it was the best opportunity I’d ever had.
I’m done with this place. I seized my bag and scrubbed my eyes—the source of most of my trouble—with my sleeve.
Gaela clacked down the street, heavy on her four legs after a long workday. Even her prickles ached. Her tabular dinged and a message floated up. She scanned the holographic text hoping her 338—er, 335—kids hadn’t eaten one another again. Because that’s what happened when there wasn’t enough money.
Read it now
Olivia held a test tube up to the gray sky. Diffused light filtered through the greenish water. Please, let today be the day. She propped the glass against a rock and dug out a pack of litmus strips. “Maybe once the silt settles—”
“Probably not.” Mari’s hazmat suit crinkled as she walked past.
“Your blood is purple.” I stared ahead, absolutely dumbfounded. “Your blood is purple,” I said again. I was going well over eighty miles per hour, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even see the road ahead.
“Shut up and drive!”
Somehow, I got us onto a highway. Draiyan directed me to a bridge
Yesterday was the awfullest day in the history of awful.
Morning light intruded on my doze, bringing back another rehash of those bullies tormenting my almost-friend, and me doing nothing about it. “Stay out of this, Ade-lame!” they taunted, so I did.
Any minute now, mom would yell, “Adelie, get up!”
I pulled
The rowdiness in the mall stretched for miles. I watched from a distance as people flocked the hallways, leaning over balconies to gape at the waving, smiling bot in their midst.
Thomas900.
Thomas’s robotic voice matched mine. He was tall like me, but with inward curves in the middle and a spherical base.
A drum beat throbs, anchoring the guitar riff spilling out the front door of Maisy’s Blue Dandelion. Only Charlene can play the blues like that—with her soul riding on each note, her very life poured into the music. Exposed. Honest. Alive.
I pull in a breath of moisture-laden air. Lightning flashes in
Kylie had never seen so much bot blood.
There were drops of it, splashes and pools of it, all leading farther into the house like Gretel’s breadcrumbs. Toting her medical bag high, she watched where she placed her boots. There was nothing like getting cobalt blood on leather. It was the consistency of
Trouble started with Miss Herbert’s sixth card.
I do ESP screening, so I’m used to trouble. Psychics are among the few making a decent living in the Depression, which is why people get plenty sore when I tell them they’ve flunked the test. Curses, threats. I’ve dodged punches. Guess I can’t blame them much
There are things they don’t tell you about having green skin. Like that you’ll always be parched. Or that when you have too much water, you’ll get a sugar high. Or that when you don’t get enough sunlight, you’ll wilt. Literally.
But I chose to become a Chlor—this way, my life will
“Welcome to Odac’s Moon.” The pleasant voice filled the docking station. “Please place all weaponry in the receptacle provided.”
As Illian disembarked her ship, a large metal drawer slid from the wall. She knew the drill. Working top to bottom, she removed her back scabbard, hip holster, right thigh strap, left ankle clip,
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